


Moles

by oofmilk



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Beheaded Cousins, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Self-Harm, not beta read we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24050899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oofmilk/pseuds/oofmilk
Summary: Moles are where your past lover liked to kiss you the most. Katherine never hated hers so much.
Relationships: Anne Boleyn & Katherine Howard
Comments: 5
Kudos: 94





	Moles

**Author's Note:**

> TW: self-harm (not enough to do bodily damage), mentions of past rape/non-con

The queens were busy signing autographs after their show when one young boy in particular said something that stuck with Kat.

“You have a lot of moles,” the young boy said.

“I do,” Kat replied, a bit confused and unsure where this conversation was going to go.

“My mommy said that moles are where people who loved you liked to kiss you in your past life.” The boy smiled widely. “You must have been really loved!”

If she was being truthful, Kat would admit that his statement upset her a bit. It shouldn’t have, she knew that. The boy couldn’t have been older than eleven, and he looked so genuine, but a sick feeling took root in her stomach all the same. Love, huh? Sure, she had experience with “love.”

“Yeah,” Kat said through a forced smile, “I’m sure I was.”

The boy’s parents thanked her and led him away. Kat allowed her mind to wander through the rest of the autographs as a means of distracting herself, only vaguely aware that she was still signing things and posing for pictures. Eventually, mercifully, it was over, and the queens made their way to their dressing rooms. Kat was quick to strip out of her costume and into her normal clothes, desperate to cover up any portion of skin that showed a mole, even before she let her hair down and removed her makeup.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do a costume change that quickly, Kitty,” Anne joked.

“I’m just feeling extra gross today, so I didn’t want to stay in it longer than I had to,” Kat said. Technically, it wasn’t a lie.

Anne wrinkled her nose and replied with a teasing “Gross” before moving to wipe her stage makeup off. Kat wiped her makeup off but frowned when the small mole that lived just above her upper lip became visible again. Making sure no one was looking, Kat took her foundation and covered it back up. What she couldn’t see couldn’t hurt her… right?

Soon enough the queens left the theater, saying goodbye to the ladies in waiting on the way out, and piled into their two cars. Aragon, Cathy, and Cleves got into one car, which left Jane, Anne, and Kat in the second. Kat offered to sit in the back before Anne got the chance to call shotgun. When she wasn’t looking, Jane and Anne shot each other a look. That certainly wasn’t normal. Nevertheless, they didn’t push it.

When all six queens arrived back at their home, Kat climbed the stairs to her room without so much as a word to the others. She made sure to completely close her door, deciding to forgo the lock, before stripping her clothes off to stand in front of her full length mirror. For a while Kat did nothing but stare at the moles dotting her skin. What the boy said about them being a lover’s favorite spot to kiss made more and more alarming sense as her memories supplemented men for each mole.

Kat’s hands trailed over each one in turn as they were connected to the men of her past. A lot of the ones on her thighs were from Mannox, while the ones on her arms were from Dereham. The ones on her chest, neck, and upper lip belonged to Henry, and the ones on her back were courtesy of Culpeper. It seemed even now, five hundred years since their deaths, that the men who had abused her still managed to leave their marks.

Tears rolled down Kat’s cheeks as she suddenly dug her nails into a mole on her inner thigh. Stupid, stupid, _stupid_. She was stupid to believe that they couldn’t hurt her anymore now that six feet of dirt separated them from her. Kat didn’t want them to hurt her anymore, but what choice did she have? Between the moles and the scar on her neck, she couldn’t escape from Catherine Howard, fifth wife of Henry VIII. She settled on digging her nails into the mole on her thigh so hard that it pained her to stand. 

Kat fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around herself. _Love_. Those moles were made out of love, so the boy claimed, but none of them loved her at all. All those men had seen when they looked at Kat was something fuckable, something they could touch and squeeze with no consequences. They hadn’t looked at her with love, they had looked at her with lust. Maybe whatever rules there were for reincarnation didn’t care. A kiss was a kiss, who was it to determine if it was a kiss born out of real love or not? Kat didn’t know how long she sat in front of her mirror sobbing. At some point, someone knocked on her door.

“Kitty, Cleves said to come get you for dinner,” Anne said from the other side. When she got no answer, she spoke again, “Kitty?”

Kat tried to give a sufficient reply, but all that left her mouth was a strangled sob. There was silence on the other side of the door, and Kat knew Anne knew she had been crying. 

“Kit, can I come in?” Anne asked softly.

“Y-Yes.”

Anne opened the door slowly and peered into the room. Sadness filled her eyes when she saw her younger cousin crying on the floor. She sat down by Kat’s side and didn’t say anything for a long moment. A lot was happening—her cousin was crying, she was stripped practically naked, and a collection of red half-moons decorated her inner thigh—but Anne knew trying to force an answer out wouldn’t help, no matter how much she wanted to.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The next few minutes were spent rubbing Kat’s back and reminding her to take deep breaths as she recounted to Anne everything that had happened since her encounter with the boy at the theater. Anne just nodded and whispered assurances until Kat took one final shuddering breath and leaned into her side.

“I’m so sorry, that sounds absolutely horrible,” Anne started, “but you’re so much more than them. Your moles aren’t stupid marks from them, they’re a symbol that you’re a _survivor_. You’re strong, Kit, and your moles just prove that despite everything, you’re still here to kick ass another day.”

Kat sniffed to clear her nose somewhat and smiled up at her cousin. “Thank you, Annie. That really helps, honestly.”

“Any time.” Anne smirked and tickled Kat’s side. “But you might want to get dressed before we go down for dinner. Aragon’ll throw a royal fit if you show up half naked.”

Kat slapped at Anne’s hands good naturedly before playfully shoving her aside. “You don’t think she would appreciate my new style?”

“Not unless you told her it was ‘totes God’s will,’” Anne said, using her fingers to make air quotes. She stood and moved back to the door. “I’ll tell them you’ll be a minute.”

Kat nodded, keeping her focus on putting her jeans back on. “Awesome.”

“Kitty?” Kat looked up when addressed. “I’m always available to talk if you need to. It doesn’t matter what I’m doing, I _will_ be available.”

“Thank you.”

With that, Anne left her room, shutting the door behind her. After zipping up her jeans, Kat picked her shirt up off the floor. She caught her reflection in the mirror and smiled. She took her thumb and swiped the foundation off her upper lip, once again revealing the mole there. _Survivor_. She liked Anne’s definition much better. Kat wasted no more time in pulling her shirt on and running down to join her family for dinner, her heart already feeling much lighter.


End file.
